


July 4th, 1996

by magicbubblepipe



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Episode: s05e16 Dark Side of the Moon, Fluff, Impala Sex, M/M, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest, Weecest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:26:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicbubblepipe/pseuds/magicbubblepipe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all of the fireworks were literal (or why that night really made Dean's greatest hits).</p>
            </blockquote>





	July 4th, 1996

Dean’s been second guessing this whole thing since right about the time he thought of it but the look of pure elation on Sam’s face right now is enough to dispel any wish to back out. Sammy’s almost out the door before the Impala stops rolling and he has to chuckle at his brother’s enthusiasm as he puts her in park and twists the key. The lack of the grumbling of the engine leaves the quiet of the summer night, crickets chirping, not a breeze on the balmy air.

            He closes the door behind him just as Sam closes the trunk, plastic crate full of fireworks in his arms. “Come on!” he says excitedly and takes off into the empty field.

            “Right behind ya,” Dean calls, jogging after him to where he’s kneeling down, setting up some bottle rockets and atomic something-or-others.

            Sam stands with a roman candle in each hand, extending them toward Dean. “Got your lighter?” he asks, all bouncy excitement and Dean smirks as he pulls the Zippo from his pocket and flips it open with a flourish of his wrist that garners a snicker from his brother.

            He lights Sam’s wick and then his own and they both stand with their arms out, pointing the candles toward the sky. There’s a moment of anticipation and the crackle of flame before the hollow “thunk” and loud “CRACK” as the little balls of fire burst and send fingers of colored sparks into the sky. They stand, staring in awe at the exploding lights overhead, the rush of each ball escaping the candle almost like a gunshot as it trembles through their hands.

            When those are done, Sam turns to Dean and looks up at him like he’s just hung the moon and Dean’s heart skips a ridiculous beat. “Dad would never let us do anything like this,” Sam says in a reverent tone, his eyes shining with how grateful he is, “Thanks, Dean. This is great.”

And then he’s throwing himself into Dean, arms locking tight around him, cheek pressed soundly against his chest. For a breathless moment, Dean is too stunned to react but when he does, he wraps his arms tight around Sammy and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this kid. He runs a gentle hand through that dark mop of hair and smiles because everything is warm and perfect and right.

When Sam loosens his grip, he smiles softly and takes the lighter from Dean, making a beeline for the others he’d set up. “Fire in the hole!” he shouts, running back to Dean while the wicks sizzle. They stand together, staring expectantly at the sky and are rewarded with the high screech of the fireworks ascending heavenward and shattering against the black of the night. Dean laughs outright in surprise and joy and Sam can’t contain himself any longer.

He runs out into the field, dancing under the shower of sparks that rain from the sky, jumping around and laughing like he’s never been happier. He probably hasn’t. And Dean made it happen. Sam stops and looks at Dean, smiling and nodding in his direction and Dean smiles right back, feels like his face is gonna split in two with how fiercely glad he is in this moment.

And then Sam’s coming over to him again, tugging his hand, pulling him along as the fireworks continue to shriek and burst overhead. Dean goes right along and dances around like an idiot because he can. Dad’s not here to tell him to grow up so he doesn’t have to. He’s free to play in a field with his little brother who is everything right with the world and he doesn’t have to think about monsters or ghosts or becoming a man way too fast. He can just _be_.

             They get tired of running eventually and collapse on the grass, wrestling playfully over who gets to light the sparklers. Sammy winds up on top and Dean’s too breathless with laughing to throw him off. Sam’s sitting astride his belly, his hands little patches of heat on Dean’s chest and he’s leaning down. Dean wonders if he’s gonna blow a raspberry on him or something when Sam’s soft lips press against his cheek for a fleeting moment of innocent affection.

            Dean takes in a sharp breath and stares up at his brother who has the softest look on his face he’s ever seen, content little smile curving the lips that had just been on Dean’s face. His hands are on Sam’s waist without realizing it, fingers pressing into the warmth of his body, suddenly wanting to touch the skin underneath but he doesn’t.

            “Sammy,” he whispers and it’s loud in the sudden silence after the fireworks have died. Sam’s breath hitches and his fingers curl in Dean’s shirt like he’s just realized something.

            “Dean.”

            Dean surges up just as Sam’s leaning down and meets him halfway, arms going around his slim back as he claims his brother’s mouth. Sam whimpers and melts against him like he’s been waiting for this his whole life and like hell Dean’s gonna deny him. He digs his fingers into baby-soft hair and pulls to tilt Sam’s head, licking the seam of his mouth until Sam opens on a sigh. His tongue pushes inside the soft cavern of Sam’s mouth, coaxing and swirling around the younger boy’s until he slowly starts to really kiss him back.

            The thought that this is probably Sammy’s first kiss makes his heart swell to bursting while sending a rush of blood down to his already rock hard dick. God, he wants to be Sam’s first everything, wants to teach him, show him the ropes just like he’s done his whole life but better. So much better. The only thing that could possibly dislodge him from Sam at this moment would be a fucking wildfire. And at this precise moment, because God just hates him or something, Dean smells smoke.

            “Dean-

            “I know, Sammy, come on,” he says as they scramble off of each other. Dean seizes his brother’s hand and starts to run for the car. The field is steadily going up in flames and one tree is already being charred to a cinder by the time he dives behind the wheel of the Impala and starts driving.

            He fumbles out his cellphone and quickly reports the fire to the local authorities while he gets Sam and himself to a safe distance. They trundle up a dirt road for a ways and stop under a copse of trees. From this higher vantage point, the boys can keep an eye on the field they just set ablaze. They sit in stunned silence for several minutes until they hear sirens in the distance and then it’s like a cork out of the bottle and they’re both laughing uncontrollably.

            The police and firemen show up, followed by paramedics and Dean laughs even harder at such overkill for a burning field. By the time they’re getting the fire under control, he’s sagged back against the seat in content exhaustion. He tilts his head to the side to look at Sam and Sam’s looking right at him with those eyes that get right into Dean’s soul and see everything he tries to hide. He swallows, smile fading a little because oh yeah, he had just been making out with his thirteen year old little brother before the fire interrupted.

            “Sammy…” he starts, feeling like the worst kind of shit. _You kissed your brother. Innocent baby brother. What the fuck is wrong with you?_ His conscience demands, guilt gnawing at his insides.

            “Stop, Dean,” Sam says firmly with a look that’s older than his years. He puts his hand on Dean’s knee and looks him straight in the eye when he says, “Don’t start with that guilt crap. You didn’t make me. I wanted you to. God, I still want you to.”

            He slides his hand up and rests it where Dean’s traitorous cock is rapidly filling with blood. “You want me too.” Sam says, quiet and so resolute that Dean can’t make himself deny it. He squeezes and that’s fucking _it_.

            Dean growls and grabs his brother, manhandles him until his back is pressed up against the passenger side door and his legs are splayed open for Dean to slide in between. Their cocks line up through layers of denim and it’s the closest to heaven Dean’s ever been. Slowly, Dean starts to rock against him and Sam makes this beautiful keening sound that makes him shiver and push his tongue back into his mouth like he’ll be able to taste it there.

            Sam’s legs come up around his hips and Dean should have known he’d be a fucking natural. He’s moving with Dean, fingers scrabbling over the muscled planes of his back as he tries to match his rhythm. Dean smears hot kisses down the side of Sam’s neck, biting down just to hear him cry out and grip him tighter. He soothes his tongue over the mark he’s made and says, “Need to taste you, baby boy.”

            “Oh,” is all Sam can manage and it’s desperate and breathy in a way that turns Dean on so hard he _leaks_.

            He slides down Sam’s body, palming over the hard bulge in his brother’s pants before he flicks open the button and tugs them apart and down. There’s a wet patch on Sam’s underwear over the crown of his dick and Dean laves his tongue over it with a groan. Sam practically mewls and bucks his hips enough to mash his crotch against Dean’s mouth.

            “Easy tiger,” Dean breathes out on a soft laugh, stilling Sam’s hips with his hands and tugs his underwear out of the way.

            Sam’s dick slaps back against his stomach, red and wet and not a bad size for someone his age. Dean’s mouth is already watering as he scoops the heated length into his hand and laps at the head. He hears Sam’s head thunk against the door as he breathes out a quiet, “fuck”. He grins as he takes the whole thing easily into his mouth in one fluid motion. The sound Sam makes could probably be heard from space.

            He bobs his head, sucking on every upstroke, moaning a little at the hot little bursts of pre-come that erupt over his tongue. Sam’s got one hand on the seat, clutching at the leather and the other in Dean’s hair, tangled up in a death grip as he pants and writhes. He knows Sam’s not gonna last so he takes him all the way down, pressing his tongue against his balls as he swallows. Sam gasps in a breath like he’s drowning and arches up off the seat like the fucking exorcist as he comes and it’s so hot that Dean’s like one second away from creaming his pants like he’s twelve.

            He groans around Sam’s cock as it pulses down his throat and he sucks him through it, loving the thick, musky taste of his brother on his tongue. When Sam settles back against the seat, boneless and sated, Dean lets go of his softening length and pushes up onto his knees to get a shaking hand down his pants. Sam is beating him to it though and Dean’s surprised, thought he’d just pass out after an orgasm like that.

            Sam undoes his buckle, button, and zip, pulls Dean’s cock through the slit in his boxers and strokes twice before Dean’s coming like a shot, head thrown back as he bucks into the tight heat of his brother’s hand that can hardly wrap all the way around him. Somehow that thought just makes him come harder and if he cared right now, he’d be a little concerned about his mental wellbeing.

            Sam keeps stroking, gently through the aftershocks until Dean eases his hand away and flops back into his own seat. They sit for a moment, breathing hard the air that smells like sweat and sex and _them_ until coherent thought starts to return. Dean looks at Sam, at his flushed face and pretty red lips and smiles hard.

            “What?” Sam asks, blushing darker.

            Dean wants to say ‘I love you’ but instead he says, “Happy Fourth of July, Sammy.”

            Sam smiles.  


End file.
